Monday, September 8, 2014

summerhouse

Pergola? Gazebo? Wooden structure with open door and lattice walls.... I don't know what to call it.

The previous owners had a hot-tub in there.

It's a nourishing space for me. I sit in a beach chair or recline in the hammock, the hammock from my wonderful son. He won it at work. It's a deluxe hammock with a metal frame.

Anyway, nourishing. I sit and absorb the garden energy. So peaceful. I watch the hummingbirds, bees, chickadees, sparrows, and doves. I admire the sunflowers, calendula, hibiscus, clouds, and grass. I see colors of yellow, white, green, blue, and purple. Morning glories climb up the lattice walls, and bloom in intense blue, purple, pink, and white. The sun shines through the green heart-shaped leaves. Bees disappear into the blossoms. They bloom in the morning and close up in the afternoon; after blooming briefly they drop to the ground, discarded bits of color.

The vegetables are behind me. Eggplant, pole beans, carrots, and artichoke. Herbs too: cilantro, coriander, and basil.

When I walk into the garden after work I feel welcomed, enveloped, enfolded, and healed. I like it at sunrise: slanted light hits the leaves and flowers. Birds flit and dive. I like it in the afternoon: I pick beans and soak up sun. I like it at sunset: dramatic summer clouds, dew, beauty.

But that structure, that building: what to call it? I call it the summerhouse. It's not a pergola- it has a roof. Not really a gazebo, it's rectangular and has walls. Lattice walls, still. It's a refuge.

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